What You Sayin
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Ft. Dj E-Feezy (Intro) You can't stop greatness! How you gon' start reinventing the game When we invented the game? Dj E-Feezy The Wolf of South Beach The Album! (Hook) Hit ya wit no delayin' so what ya saying yo Niggas ain't payin' so I just been layin' low I'm all about famo like Marlin Brando My bitch go commando, I'm in command tho' I hit ya ammo, quick as a Lambo I play wit her pussy hole like flippin' channels And my bitches is too live like Luther Campbell And I'm spitting this shit tho', like I chew tobacco (Verse) Shimmy shimmy ya shimmy yay I'ma kick a nigga in his mouth, MMA I'ma stick a semi in his mouth, kissy face I'ma lose the weight in the drought, Ricki Lake I'ma put get the white and put it out, Em and Dre I'ma fuck her sisters and 'er mum, Kim and Ye They respect all my artistry like Hemingway And they respect all of my Martians That's why they give me space muthafucka Know ya see what's up in my hand so what ya saying wooo Cos' I put yo fucking brains all on the dashboard, oh! Ya not in my fucking lane ya on the crash course And ya feeling froggy leap I'm kidnappin' yo tadpoles I can't remember the bitch name I fucked after my last show When I say my cash low I'm just tellin' a bad joke Long hair don't care, no shirt like Fabio Lil nigga dread locks wit a dick wit an afro (oh ah) I got ya all in check I make her (Ooh Ahh) and now she on my breath I'm wit my goon by, we riding on yo set And we can shoot out til' it's quiet on the set Boo-ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he rest Bitch I'm groundbreaking and I'm taking baby steps I'm about to bust a rhyme, nod yo head and break ya neck! I'ma kill these muthafuckers, ya ain't dead, fake ya death I ain't playin', I'ma hit ya wit no delayin' and I ain't paying, hoe I come thru' me and my woes looking like camp lo This is a what? Gucci fallin' from the sky Let's get rich what? Boy, I been rich since 1995 Where ya been boy Money talks and I'm about to send a invoice to them boys Yea I'm tried of this bullshit I'm wylin' I'm 2 lit I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo boot tips Yeah, I'm tied up and fair, put some gwop on yo head Now they can't find yo body, like the sack in the bed This is it, bwoy, you done dug yoself a hole That's a pit, bwoy, that's white shit, bwoy Uh, type o'nigga that'll slap you with the tooley-oh It ain't about what you smoke, it's about who you smoke A homeboy hoody, yo, he real moody, yo I tell him dont bully folks, he still do it tho' They give you a funeral, you won't be viewable I told ya get thru' the door, them hoes get super soaked Now do you really wanna party with me? Let me sees whatcha got fo' me Aye, do you really wanna party with me? In Squad we trust! Puffin' on that stuff, eyes low Lower than Connie Chung(?) They don't fuck with us cuz they know that we not the ones Boy, we got them guns, get a-holing shit out from none Yo, it's young money, my nigga, you know we bout to bust And everybody armed, more armed than Octopus Spray my name on my cups, so nigga know not to touch Every time I bust a rhyme, anotha one bites the dust Tunechi! (Outro) Dj E-Feezy Mula! Bust the bust, fuck with me! Y'already know what it is, man
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